We're Not All Bad
by Shannen
Summary: Clark's thoughts during random scenes from the episode Cool, mainly in regard to Sean/Chloe. Clark POV.
1. Default Chapter

Title: We're Not All Bad  
Rating:PG  
Summary: Clark/Chloe--no shippiness, I don't think anyway, but you know me...I start off saying it's a friendship fic, and then they end up...well, just left of friendship  
Clark's POV   
Random moments, I guess, of Clark's thoughts about Chloe and Sean during "Cool"  
Spoilers for "Cool" obviously, if you haven't seen it.  
Disclaimer: Of course, I own none of this...I wish I owned Clark, I wish I was as cool as Chloe, but sadly, I own nothing except for an insane Scottish Terrier named Bert, and...well, he's really the only thing I own that has any value, and even then, it's only sentimental. So all this, from characters to the storyline, belongs to DC Comics, the WB, and all those other people responsible for bring Smallville to our screens every Tuesday (or in my case Wednesday) night. I'm just borrowing them for a minute, but I promise to put them back like I found them. Mostly.  
  
Part One  
  
I'm not looking forward to this party at all.   
  
Not that I'm not up for a night of hanging out with my two best friends. I'm always up for that. Those are the times that, despite the total weirdness that is my life, I feel totally normal. Just an average small town guy, hanging with his two average small town friends. But I probably shouldn't tell Chloe that I categorize her as a "small town" girl. She wouldn't like that as much as I do, I don't think.  
  
So it's not a matter of the company I'm keeping that has me not looking forward to this party. It's rather an issue of the company I'm *not* keeping. The company of Lana Lang in particular. Or maybe not. Maybe it's more an issue of watching the company *she's* keeping, as in Whitney. It irks me still...I'll admit it. When I saved her from Greg Arkin, Whitney got all the credit. That's fine...I was just relieved Lana was alive and OK. But when I saved her from Tina Greer's obsession...Whitney was still the one who got to hold Lana, comfort Lana, make her feel safe and loved, even though Lana, Whitney, and all parties involved knew that this time, *I* was the one who did the saving. So yeah...it irks me.  
  
No, I'm not looking forward to this party at all. But we've all climbed out of Chloe's car, and are moving toward the party, which consists of nothing more than a group of people making out as they gather around several campfires in a clearing. Not exactly the makings of a Mensa gathering, at any rate.  
  
"Now this is what I love about high school parties," Chloe begins, yanking me from my thoughts. "People will gather anywhere as long as there is illegally purchased alcohol and even the slightest chance of hooking up." She says it like she's above it all, so I feel I have to bring her crashing back down to earth, at least momentarily. I'm her friend after all...it's my job.  
  
"If I recall correctly, you're the one who wanted to come to this party," I remind her. She and I had not, in fact, been invited. Pete, with his recently gained football team connections, had swung the invitation. Chloe and I were just along for the ride...Chloe to observe the "intellectually challenged steroid poppers and pom pom swingers" as she called them, in their native setting, and me to...to I don't know what. Watch Lana and Whitney, and drive it through my head one more time that Lana is an untouchable dream. Guess I've got a masochistic streak I didn't even know about until now.  
  
"Well...yeah...but I didn't know it was gonna be so cold. It's like twenty thousand degrees below zero out here," Chloe complained.   
  
Chloe does have a tendency to exaggerate, which is either a good thing or a bad thing, given the profession she's chosen to pursue. I decide to call her on it, and shrug. "I don't know...it doesn't feel that cold to me." By "that cold", I mean twenty thousand degrees below zero, but Chloe decides to ignore my joke and take it literally.  
  
"What are you from an ice planet? It's *freezing*! I'm gonna go thaw out by the fire." With that, she darts around me and heads for the main fire. "Have fun," she calls out.  
  
Yeah...that will happen. Especially after I turn away from watching Chloe and see the sight I've been dreading all night--Whitney and Lana, huddled under a blanket, looking as cozy as two people can be. I sigh heavily. Yeah...have fun.  
  
'And the fun just never stops', I think as I turn around and see Sean Kelvin standing in front of me.   
  
"Hey Kent," he says, sounding every bit as sleazy as his reputation. "You're friends with Chloe...is she flying solo tonight?"  
  
This guy can't be serious, and even if he is, there's no way in hell I'm letting him and his love 'em and leave 'em rep anywhere near Chloe. For a split second, I consider telling him no...Chloe's with me, and she's definitely not flying solo tonight. But then it would be hard to explain, if Chloe is my co-pilot for the night, why she's over at the fire and I'm standing here watching Lana and Whitney. I decide a warning in the form of the truth will scare him off.   
  
"Believe me Sean...you're not her type," I say, injecting a slightly threatening tone into my voice. Even if he thinks he is her type, I'm letting him know he's not, and he'll have to get through me to prove it. We both glance over at Chloe, who is warming her hands by the fire, and my heart clenches at the lascivious look in Sean's eyes. 'No way in hell,' I repeat to myself.  
  
Sean turns back to me, not at all put off by my vague threat. "Well, you'd be surprised," he says, patting my arms like we're best friends. He gives me a cocky grin and heads over to Chloe, like a wolf stalking it's prey.  
  
Part of me is screaming to go over there, pick Chloe up in my arms, take her home, and sit guard outside her door to keep her from the Seans of the world. Part of me is wishing I didn't have this super strength, so I wouldn't be so morally opposed to going over there and giving Sean's ass a good kicking. But I remain rooted to my spot, thanks to the part of me that is telling me that if I go over and do any of those things, Chloe will be the one kicking *my* ass, super strength be dammed.  
  
So I stay where I am. I may be somewhat naive in the ways of the world, but if I know one thing, it's Chloe. She's going to see right through his act. I cross my arms and rock back on my heels, waiting to see the glorious sight of Chloe sending Sean running, with his tail between his legs.  
  
Which, of course should have been my cue that I was setting myself up for a major shock. I rub my eyes, because I know I didn't just see Chloe laughing with Sean, leaning over, and writing what appears to be a phone number on his hand. No...I didn't see that. Sean is a total dog. Maybe Chloe doesn't know this...after all, she's not in the boys locker room hearing the tales of the latest addition to the "Kelvin Scale" as Sean calls it. A guy like that isn't good enough for Chloe...she needs a guy who is...well, a guy like me. I glance over at Lana. Only not me. Or at least I think.  
  
Whitney has left Lana, yelling something about football down by the lake. It's my chance to go over and talk to her. But I glance at Chloe, sitting with a pleased smile on her face. I glance at Lana again. No...this is more important, I decide, and start over to Chloe.  
  
I decide not to go with my original plan, which is to grab Chloe, give her a good shaking, and attack her with the question rattling in my brain--"What the hell are you doing giving Sean your number???!!!!" I decide to play it a little cooler than that. I clear my throat, and sit carefully, opening and closing my mouth a couple of times like I'm trying to find the right words.  
  
"Did you just write your phone number down on Sean Kelvin's hand?" I ask, shocking myself with the calmness in which the question comes out of my mouth, considering I'm anything but calm inside.  
  
"Don't sound so shocked, Clark," she informs me matter of factly. "Guys do find me attractive even though I don't have raven hair and the initials L.L."  
  
I feel that quick clench in my chest again. I can't decide if it's from the idea of other guys finding Chloe attractive, or from the idea that she doesn't think *I* find her attractive. That's not true. I think Chloe is one of the most beautiful girls in school, inside *and* outside, right behind Lana even. Sometimes, even though I'd never admit it to her, when I look at Chloe, I have to catch my breath. She's got this enthusiasm and smile that can light up a whole room, and it can be breathtaking to witness. But somehow, I don't think things like that are the aspects of her Sean Kelvin finds attractive.  
  
"That's not what I meant," I say firmly. I nod my head toward the edge of the clearing, where Sean had followed the other jocks for a round of football. "The guy's a dog."  
  
Chloe must have picked up on the over protective tone in my voice, because she rolls her eyes and laughs. "Clark, relax. I just gave him my number to get rid of him." She taps my knee with the pen she used to give Sean her number. "Get Pete," she says. "The taxi's leaving." She gets up and starts walking back toward the area where the car is parked.  
  
I watch her for a moment...maybe making sure that Sean isn't going to jump out of the bushes and grab her...before I turn back to the fire. I stare into it, and as I do so, all thoughts clear from my head, except one nagging thought lingering near the back. It isn't exactly a thought I want to think about either, but I'm forced to let it come to the front.  
  
If Chloe only gave Sean her number to get rid of him, why on earth did she give him her *real* number instead of a fake one?  
  
Yeah, I knew I wasn't looking forward to this party at all. 


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for Disclaimer/Notes  
  
I rush back to campus, even though school is over for the day. I just happen to find myself having a non date with Lana Lang, and I want to share the news with Pete and Chloe, even if they will probably insist on trying to pump me up by saying it means something that it doesn't. But that's OK, because sometimes, that's just what best friends have to do.  
  
"OK, let me get this straight. You walked in to get a cappuccino, and walked out with a date with Lana Lang," Chloe says incredulously as we walk across campus.  
  
"It's not a date," I insist for what seems like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes.  
  
"Still," Chloe says, "even with the just as friends rider...I'm impressed."  
  
"How'd you score the tickets?" Pete asks.  
  
"I'm guessing a certain follically challenged individual was behind it?" Chloe says, grabbing my arm to steady herself as we walk across some rough terrain.  
  
I hear the distrust in her voice. She and my dad seem to be from the same school of thought when it comes to the Luthors. She doesn't trust Lex, and has made no secret of sharing that with me. So we've agreed to disagree. Because sometimes, that's just what best friends have to do.  
  
"Lex hooked me up," I confirm. "Actually Chloe, I have you to thank," I inform her, her earlier words about treating her better ringing in my ears. Maybe if I give her credit where credit is due, that would be the first step to making that happen.  
  
"What did I do?" she asks.  
  
"Well, you were right. I just had to get it out there," I say. 'Score one for Kent', I think to myself. Chloe likes nothing better than when people tell her she's right. I'm earning major friend brownie points with that one, I'm guessing.  
  
Chloe gives me a tight smile. "Well, good. I'm glad," she says.   
  
I study her face for a moment. Chloe is the worst liar in history. She's anything but glad. Hopefully, this has less to do with me going out with Lana and more to do with the fact Sean hasn't called her...which I'm not so secretly thrilled about. And I've shared that with her, and pulled no punches about how happy it makes me. Because sometimes, that's just what best friends have to do.  
  
Speaking of Sean, we look up to see him anxiously approaching us. "Maybe this is your chance," Pete says hopefully. I want to smack him and tell him to shut up. I thought we'd gone through this already...Sean is bad news. I thought everyone was in agreement with me on that. Apparently not.  
  
I feel Chloe's eyes on me, so I work carefully to keep my face neutral and keep my eyes trained on the ground. But I can't stop my jaw from clenching or my posture from stiffening as Sean approaches us. I clench and unclench my fists a couple of times, wishing that I could just sock the guy in the jaw, and we could be on our merry way.   
  
Sean comes up and asks Chloe, "Don't I owe you a phone call?"  
  
"I guess so," she says in a non-committal tone.  
  
"Well. what are you doing right now," Sean asks hopefully.  
  
'Nothing that involves you,' I think to myself. Chloe's not going to fall for this guy's act again, I just know it. She's gonna rip him from head to toe...how could she not after he lied about calling her? Guess I'm going to get to see Sean run off with his tail between his legs after all. I feel the need to look up from studying the crack in the sidewalk to see this.  
  
"Well, I've got to put the paper to bed," she says, and I try to hide my smile. Any second now, she'll be following that up with a retort about Sean's weasel ways. "Maybe afterwards we could do something," she adds hopefully.  
  
I glance at Chloe, unable to believe my ears. She's actually giving this guy the time of day. Not only that, but she's close to borderline begging. She's making it sound like *she's* the one who needs to be forgiven, instead of the other way around. I have to work really hard to keep my jaw from dropping to the ground.   
  
I start racking my brain for an excuse--any excuse--to blurt out to keep Chloe from going anywhere with this guy. Turns out, I don't have to say anything at all. Sean simply turns away from Chloe in mid sentence, and openly gawks at his ex girlfriend, Jenna. He calls her name, and turns and walks toward her, leaving Pete, Chloe and I standing there surrounded by an uncomfortable silence.  
  
I feel Chloe's eyes on me, and I glance over at her. When I see the look on her face, I again get that quick clench in my heart that seems to be a regular occurrence when I'm around Chloe as of late. I open my mouth to say something, but I'm undecided if I should go the "Sean's a dog" route again or not. I can tell from the look on Chloe's face that she's not in the mood for what might come off as an "I told you so" routine, and I just can't force any excuse for Sean to cross my lips, so I simply close my mouth again.  
  
Chloe watches Sean with...it looks like a look of longing, but I tell myself it can't be that. She's not supposed to look at jerks like Sean like that. "OK, I was playing barely hard to get. What's the problem?" she asks, not really expecting an answer.  
  
'The problem is Sean is a huge idiot who can't see someone amazing standing two feet in front of him. You're funnier, smarter, prettier, and a better person than Jenna could ever dream to be on her best day,' I answer silently in my head. But I don't speak those words. First, they'd make Chloe uncomfortable. Second, it would open a whole other can of worms between Chloe and I and how we think and feel about each other, and neither of us are ready for that. So I simply shove my hands into my pockets and glare at Sean's back.  
  
"Clark Kent gets a date with Lana Lang, and suddenly there's no luck left for the rest of us," Chloe says, trying to laugh the whole thing off. But I can hear the disappointment in her voice, and my heart hurts for her again. She and Pete start into the school building, while I stay behind and continue to glare at Sean. I suddenly really, really want to hurt this guy. I can't understand how anyone could be so blind as to how lucky they would be to have Chloe in their life.  
  
As I watch Sean walk off with Jenna, whispering in her ear, I'm suddenly mad--at myself. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't let Sean hurt Chloe...even though he hasn't laid a hand on her, he's done nothing but hurt her all the same, and I've just stood around and watched.   
  
Because, sadly, sometimes that's just what best friends have to do. 


	3. Chapter 3

See Part One for Disclaimer/Notes  
  
Best friends don't let friends go out on dates looking like fools.  
  
I stand out in the dining room, pretending to sort through a basket of unfolded laundry. Pick up a shirt, roll it into a ball, put it down. Repeat. I might as well be folding..well, something other than clothes, for all the attention I'm paying to what I'm doing.  
  
I want to pay attention to what I'm doing. I should be paying attention to what I'm doing. I've got a non date in the big city with Lana Lang tonight and I want to look good, or at least look matching. This could be my big chance to dazzle Lana with my wit, looks, charm and personality.   
  
So why am I standing here in the dining room, paying no attention to picking out a suitably fashionable outfit for my big non date? I'd like to blame it on my lack of keen fashion sense, but in reality I can only blame it on hearing Chloe speak the following words into her cell phone:  
  
"Sean. Hi!"  
  
Sean. Hi. Two little words that wiped all thoughts of what colors match and what colors don't out of my mind. Two little words that make me forget Lana, big non dates, and my lack of keen fashion sense.  
  
So here I stand, balling up clothes blindly as I strain to hear the conversation in the other room. I hear Chloe giggle shyly, more than once. One would think at this point, having personally witnessed Chloe falling under Sean's spell, I would be used to it. But when I hear it, it takes all my self control not to rip the shirt I'm holding into shreds. It takes all my self control not to run out and flatten Chloe's tires so she can't leave. It takes all my self control not to grab the phone sitting nearby, to call Lana and tell her I've mysteriously come down with the bubonic plague and can sadly no longer make the concert, so that I can spend the rest of the evening making sure Chloe doesn't come within three feet of Sean Kelvin.  
  
Chloe comes waltzing into the kitchen, looking like the cat who just ate the mouse. "Guess, who just called me?" I grab a red flannel shirt, pretending to seriously consider it as my fashion statement and wait for her to tell me what I already know. "Sean," she says, sounding somewhat pleased.  
  
It's been said words can cut deeper than any knife. That thought zips across my mind as I hear my tongue choose its knife of choice. "Did he apologize for blowing you off?" I hear myself ask. Leave it to my tongue to pick one of the sharpest knives in the arsenal.   
  
"He said he wasn't feeling well," Chloe replies.  
  
I hear the hint of desperation in her voice. Desperation to believe that Sean was speaking the truth. Desperation to have someone....me...confirm it, so that she can more easily sell the idea to herself.  
  
Chloe is my best friend. She's closer to me than anyone on this planet outside of my parents. As much as I hate Sean, I want to see Chloe happy. I want to erase that tinge of desperation from her voice. Unfortunately, my tongue has other ideas as to how this situation should be handled.  
  
"Chloe, I saw him go off with Jenna." Ouch, I think. Guess there was a sharper knife in the arsenal after all. I cringe internally as I hear myself twist the knife for good measure. "Guess she made him feel better."  
  
"Well..well, he said it was completely over with her," Chloe says, and this time, the desperation in her voice could have been heard by a deaf man. She wants to believe it so badly, and I can't help her with that. At least not the way she wants me to. I force a smile onto my face and try a different tack.  
  
"You like him, don't you?" I ask. Now my voice is the one with the hint of desperation. Desperate to hear Chloe tell me she doesn't. Hopefully, her tongue is more forgiving than mine.  
  
"He may be a little intellectually challenged, but he's really *hot*," she says, and I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding. Shallowness. Not a redeeming quality, but in this case, I'll take Chloe having it in spades over the alternative.   
  
I really should have paid more attention that afternoon when Lex was explaining the finer points of fencing to me. Especially the part about how letting down your guard is akin to sending an engraved invitation to your opponent, asking him to skewer you. Looking back, had I remembered them, I would have been more prepared for the next words out of Chloe's mouth.  
  
"Besides, he *begged* to get together tonight, just to talk, so I told him he could bring me a coffee at the Torch." Point awarded to Miss Sullivan, I think. I do remember that much from Lex's fencing lecture.  
  
"Sounds like a date," I tell her, almost surprised that I don't taste blood as the razor blade disguised as the word date falls from my lips.   
  
I breathe a silent sigh of relief as Chloe confirms, "It's not a date." The relief is quickly killed when she adds, "It's a fact finding mission to see if he deserves a date." She feels thrilled with her little plan. I, on the other hand, feel nauseous. The idea of Sean weaseling his way into deserving an actual date with Chloe leaves me feeling queasy. Chloe is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something, anything, about this turn of events.   
  
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," I answer honestly. And it's true. That familiar quick clench in my chest that I feel when I'm around Chloe confirms it for me.  
  
I see a flash of happiness cross over Chloe's face as she realizes my stubbornness to accept this chain of events is stemmed out of a true concern for her well being. She smiles, and tells me not to worry. She tells me if I can take a chance with Lana, she can take one with Sean.   
  
I say nothing in response, instead just staring down into the mass of clothes inside the laundry basket. I toss a shirt into the reject pile without even looking at it. She's right. It's selfish of me to try to deny her a chance to find happiness while asking her to stand aside and watch me chase my chance. She wouldn't ask that of me, and it's unfair of me to ask that of her.  
  
Chloe reaches down into the laundry basket and pulls out a shirt I never even wear. "Blue's a good color on you," she said, holding it up against me.  
  
For a moment, I simply stare at her. I can't decide if I'm surprised that blue is a good color on me, or if I'm surprised that Chloe's ever given a thought as to what colors I look good in, or that she's thought I look good at all. "Really?" I ask, my voice giving away my surprise.   
  
I want to ask her why--why she agreed to do this, why she agreed to come over and help me when she and Pete have turned jesting my Lana fixation into an Olympic sport. But before I can ask, Chloe hands me the shirt and fixes me with a brilliant, happy smile. Because she *is* happy, I realize. She's happy for me, happy that I'm getting at least a chance to chase this dream that I've been harboring for years, even if I know the outcome won't be the way I've dreamed it to be. That's what makes her my friend, and I'm suddenly ashamed at my earlier thoughts which seemed bent on destroying her happiness.  
  
I realize I already have the answer to my question. Chloe is my best friend, and best friends don't let friends go out on dates looking like fools. 


	4. Chapter 4

See Part One for Disclaimer/Notes  
  
Seven minutes, 45 seconds.  
  
That's how long it takes to get from The Beanery to Smallville High at a normal running pace. I've timed it. No particular reason for it...just something you notice when you live in a small town. It takes ten minutes to walk from Chloe's house to mine. It takes thirty minutes to walk to Lex's house from mine. And it takes seven minutes, 45 seconds to get from The Beanery to Smallville High.  
  
It never seemed like an important fact to know. Not until I heard the news anchor say that the police were looking for Sean Kelvin in association with Jenna's murder. Then, without warning, it became very important to know that it takes seven minutes, 45 seconds to get from The Beanery to Smallville High.  
  
Police. Sean. Murder. The words beat through my head in time with the left, right, left, right rhythm of my legs. The town streets are too crowded...too many people lingering about, enjoying the peaceful night in their leafy little hamlet, as Chloe calls is. Too many people around for me to break out into super speed and turn that seven minutes and 45 seconds into the blink of an eye.  
  
Left, right, left, right. I suck in a lungful of air and urge my legs to pump faster as I round a corner and the high school comes into view. Left, right, left, right. I race up the small hill and leap over the pathway's railing, the air rushing out of my lungs with a loud gasp as I catch my foot on the railing, falling and hitting the ground. I pay the slight stinging caused by my palms meeting the pavement no mind as I jump up and throw open the door to the school building. At last...no one is around, and I am just a blur as I zip up the three flights of stairs to the Torch's office.  
  
"Chloe!" I yell as I race at top speed into the office. I skid to a stop and look around. The sight of the empty office greets me. "Chloe?" I call out again, trying to stop my mind from leaping to the conclusion that I'm too late. As I start rifling through papers on the desk looking for a clue, I see Chloe's computer is still online, her e-mail flashing "Messages Waiting". Now I know that Chloe left here in a hurry. She is not one to leave her e-mail just sitting there open and unchecked. I glance around the office, wondering where she is, trying to quell my rising panic.  
  
I look around, and it's then that my eye catches sight of something I'd missed in my rush to get into the office. I see the large red arrow taped to the wall across from the door, pointed downward toward a scattered trail of yellow rose petals. I leave the office and follow the trail...first walking, then jogging, then running, until I'm finally just a blur again.  
  
The trail stops at the door to the school's indoor pool. I angrily rip the piece of paper bearing the words "Please Come In" off the door and crumple it into a tiny ball. I try to turn the knob, but it's locked. I peer in through the tiny window, and see Sean standing at the pools edge, his back to the door. He's kneeling next to the pool, and for a moment I think he's maybe holding Chloe under the water. But then a quick movement in the water catches my eye, and I realize Chloe is in the pool, swimming across it, away from Sean. More importantly, away from me, and I realize I'm of no use standing on this side of the pool.  
  
I turn and start running through the winding halls around the pool, trying to find another way in. I come across the locker room door, and try the knob. Luck is with me, as the door is open. I race through the locker room, and out the door on the other side. It spits me out into a small auxiliary hallway that leads to another entrance to the pool.  
  
I check the doorknob to this entrance, and find it's locked. I frantically turn the knob, trying to break the lock from the inside, but I can't get enough momentum on the lock to break it. I hear a loud cracking noise, followed by a cry of "No!" from Chloe. I look through the window, and see Chloe struggling to get out of the pool, but something is holding her in. My brow furrows in amazement as I realize the entire pool is frozen, and Sean is slowly walking across the ice. 'How did he do that', I ask myself, staring at Sean as he crosses the frozen water.  
  
"Clark!"  
  
Chloe's desperate and fear filled cry as she sees me shakes me out of my trance. I give up trying to break the doorknob, and instead kick the door in with all my might, praying it doesn't fly off the hinges and accidentally hit Chloe. My luck holds, as the door flies open with a bang, but stays on it's hinges.   
  
I gasp as a bracing gust of freezing air nearly knocks me back, but the sight of Chloe next to the pool crying in fear pushes me forward. She cries out for me to help her, and Sean is forgotten as I sprint toward the pool.  
  
"Are you OK?" I shout, trying to keep my fear for her out of my own voice. That wouldn't exactly help calm her down.  
  
"My foot's stuck," she cries, looking back toward the pool. I see that her foot is, in fact, encased in a thick sheet of ice. I ball my bare hand into a fist and break through the sheet, my concern for Chloe overriding any fear that she might wonder how I was able to punch through 6 inches of ice like it was nothing. I reach down and grasp her ankle, which is icy to the touch, and pull it out of the water.  
  
I'm so focused on helping Chloe, that I've forgotten Sean is still very much a threat. He grabs my arm, and I grimace in pain as the freezing pain shoots through my arm. I whirl around and jerk my arm from his grasp, then do something I've been waiting to do since the moment he sidled up to me at the party and insinuated that he'd have no problem adding Chloe to the Kelvin Scale. I pull back my fist and punch Sean squarely in the jaw, sending him skidding across the ice.  
  
I pause for a moment, wanting to relish the feeling of giving Sean what he deserves, but the sound of Chloe quietly sobbing at my feet jerks me back to reality. I kneel down and help her up. "You OK?" I ask, more gently this time. She nods, still sobbing quietly, and winces in pain as she tries to put weight on her injured foot. I slide my arm around her waist, and she grasps my shoulders. We hobble toward the door that I just kicked in, and I release her, giving her a gentle push into the hall. "Go," I tell her firmly. "Run." She nods and limps toward the locker room door, while I turn and prepare to finish Sean off. Only he's not there. I glance around the pool, but Sean is no where to be seen.  
  
Not wanting to leave Chloe alone with Sean on the loose, I head back in the direction I came from. I open the locker room door, to find Chloe standing in the center of the room, shivering, arms wrapped around herself.  
  
"I thought I told you to go," I say as I lock the door behind me.  
  
"I...I wasn't g-going to just leave you," Chloe said, her teeth chattering. "W-what if he tried to hurt you?"  
  
"Don't worry about me," I tell her. "You're the one we should be worried about. Can you walk?" I ask.  
  
"I think," Chloe says, wincing as she again tried to put weight on her foot.   
  
I just shake my head, and grab a few towels to dry Chloe off with from the shelf next to the door. "Here," I say, handing them to her. "Hold these." I then reach down and scoop Chloe up into my arms, not caring that she's dripping water all over me. "Come on...we need to get you somewhere safe."  
  
"Upstairs," Chloe tells me. "Back to my office."  
  
"That's not exactly safe" I tell her, as I kick the locker room door shut behind me.  
  
"We have to figure out what's wrong with Sean," she says, and I know she's right. Judging from what he did to the pool, we're not dealing with a run of the mill murderer. We're definitely in Wall of Weird territory.  
  
------  
  
I take off my jacket and wrap it around Chloe's shivering shoulders as she huddles in her seat behind her desk. "Here...I'll fix you something warm," I offer, heading over toward the old coffee maker Chloe keeps in the office, while she busies herself behind her computer.  
  
I scoop the coffee grounds into the filter, trying to ignore the fact that my hand is trembling as I lift the scoop. If I take notice of the fact that my hands are trembling, then I'd also have to take notice of the fact that this was a call that was little too close for comfort...for the second time. Sure, the time Chloe was trapped in the fire was scary, but nobody saw that coming. Then again, no one saw this coming, not even me. Sure, I knew Sean was bad news, but I thought he was bad news in the sense that he'd take advantage of Chloe and use her, not that he'd try to kill her. No...I didn't see that one coming, not by a long shot.  
  
I'm not necessarily religious...I mean, I go to church with my parents and all, but I've never really classified myself as exceptionally religious. Still, I look up toward the heavens and breathe a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God was watching over Chloe tonight. So many things could have gone wrong...this night could have ended so differently. What if Lana hadn't switched on that TV in the limo at the precise time that the news report was coming over the airwaves? What if the limo had been even ten miles more outside of Smallville? What if Sean had picked any other time of day to call Chloe, other than when she was with me? Would I have even known where Chloe was or who she was with? I had made my anti-Sean feelings very clear to her, so I doubt she would have told me.  
  
I pour the coffee into a mug and let my mind focus on fixing it the way Chloe likes it...two sugars, three creamers. I take a deep breath and turn back toward Chloe, willing my hands to remain steady as I carry the mug to her. I need to play the strong, supportive friend--now's not the time to upset Chloe by letting her see that I start to fall apart inside every time I think of what a close call tonight was.  
  
Seven minutes, 45 seconds. Most people would tell you that's not very much time at all...that not much can change in such a small window of time. Running towards the school tonight, I realized....seven minutes and 45 seconds can feel like a lifetime. 


	5. Chapter 5

See Part One for Notes/Disclaimer  
  
Heartbreak is a strange thing. Right in the midst of the most unbearable pain, everything becomes clearer....and you realize how lucky you really are after all.  
  
Pete and I are heading toward our 6th period class. He's rambling on about something, but I'm not paying much attention. I'm too busy scanning the crowded hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chloe. She's been distant today--not her usual self. I've been trying all day to catch her alone for a few seconds and find out how she's doing. How she's *really* doing, not the unflappable facade she puts on for the public's benefit. But she keeps managing to slip away.  
  
We turn a corner, and suddenly, I see her. She's standing in front of a makeshift memorial for Jenna. I slow down for a second, watching her. She lights a candle to add to the growing, flickering pile and stares at Jenna's picture. She looks pretty upset, which I'm actually relieved to see--her constant "I'm fine...nothing to see here" routine was starting to worry me.  
  
"You OK?" I ask quietly as Pete and I approach.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, and I can't miss the sadness in her voice. "The memorial service is tomorrow," she adds.  
  
I look up, taking in all the cards and notes and mementos tacked to the wall. Jenna had a lot of friends, and they will all miss her for a long time. I swallow past the lump in my throat as I think about how easily that could have been Chloe's picture on that wall...how those sympathetic messages could have been people passing their condolences on to Pete and I. 'There but for the grace of God,' I think to myself.   
  
"Just think, you know...that could have been me," Chloe says, echoing my thoughts. "All because some guy expressed some modicum of interest in me," she adds, meeting my eyes for a second before looking away, embarrassed that she let herself be taken in by Sean's act, despite all my warnings to the contrary.  
  
I want to tell her she's wrong...that it could have never been her up there. 'Not as long as I'm drawing a breath,' I promise myself fiercely. And I want to tell her that wanting to believe that someone wanted her doesn't make her a fool. It makes her human...just like the rest of us. Just like me, and I'm not even from around here. And if it's worth anything, I have more than a modicum of interest in her--when I decide to be honest with myself, that is. But I don't say anything...the words get stuck in my throat, and the moment has passed before I can get them unstuck.  
  
Chloe shakes her head. "I thought my heart was stronger than that," she says as Pete puts a comforting arm around her and we turn away from the memorial.  
  
"Everybody is searching for their soul-mate, Chloe. It's not a sign of weakness," I assure her as at least some of the words get unstuck from my throat. She nods, but I can tell she doesn't really believe me. Or doesn't want to, anyway.  
  
"Can't believe both your dates went straight to hell and I ended up with the limo," Pete says, trying to lighten the mood a little.   
  
I follow his cue. "How was that?" I ask, hoping at least someone got some good out of Lex's generosity.  
  
"It was sweet. I've already hooked up with another date for next weekend," Pete jokes, and I roll my eyes a little, wondering how sweet Pete's dates will be when he has to go back to his old 1992 Chevy Malibu with the tendency to backfire.  
  
"I'm swearing off men," Chloe declares suddenly.   
  
"We're not *all* bad," I insist firmly, locking eyes with Chloe. The statement usually doesn't bother me...I've heard Chloe say it several times a month since I've known her. But this time, it does. Maybe it's because I know, when I'm honest with myself, my feelings for Chloe go beyond friendship. Maybe it's because I don't want to see Chloe cut herself off from the possibility that someone out there, even if he's not me, could make her happy. But I do know one thing--I can't stand the thought that in the back of her mind, Chloe might someday want to lump me in the same category as a sleazebag like Sean Kelvin. I'm sure some girls out there do. That's fine. That's their opinion. I just know it would kill me if I thought *Chloe* was doing it.  
  
"Maybe you should just swear off heat sucking horn dogs," Pete tells her, reaching over to tickle her stomach. She laughs, and I smile. It's good to hear Chloe laughing...a real laugh...again. It's like music to my ears.  
  
"Yeah, well, the next time a guy asks me out, I'm definitely doing an in depth background check," Chloe insists.  
  
I look down the hall, and see Lana gathering books from her locker. My stride falters just for a second and I stop walking. I haven't talked to Lana at all since I left her at the Beanery. I went back after I took Chloe home, but Lana was gone. I don't blame her--I didn't exactly explain things.   
  
I feel Chloe's eyes on me, and I know she's aware of who I'm staring at. "Come on Pete," she says. "Clark will catch up with us later."  
  
I look at Chloe, and she just nods understandingly as she and Pete walk off. I catch a hint of guilt in her eyes as well. I know she feels that she ruined my non-date date. I insisted that she didn't, but I know she doesn't believe me. She's wrong. I wouldn't have done anything differently. Not a single thing.  
  
Still...explanations need to be made, and I know Chloe would be mad if I just walked away. I remember the look on her face when she was helping me with fashion advice. She knew how important this date that wasn't a date with Lana was to me, and if I just let the chance to set things right with Lana and see where it leads pass me by, I would be disappointing Chloe as well as myself.  
  
I take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other as I head for Lana.  
  
----------  
  
I hear the sounds of footsteps thudding against the cement bleacher steps, but I don't look up. I'm aware a moment later of a body sitting next to me, but I still continue to study my shoes as if they contain the answers to all of life's questions.  
  
"You never showed up for 6th," Chloe says after a moment. "So I thought I'd find you here." I just shrug in reply.  
  
A few more moments of silence pass, before Chloe speaks up again. "I take it things didn't go as well with Lana as we were hoping." It's more of a statement than a question.  
  
I look up, but instead of meeting Chloe's eyes, I choose to stare out across the football field. "Whitney is taking her to Metropolis on Saturday. She told him we were just friends."  
  
"She *is* dating him," Chloe reminds me gently.  
  
I nod. "I know. I got the answer to that too. I asked her why she was going out with Whitney."  
  
"What did she say?" Chloe asks.  
  
I sigh sadly. "Doesn't matter. They were good reasons."  
  
Chloe is quiet for a minute, before she says something I wasn't expecting. "Guess you didn't really miss out on Mr. Milkner's psych test after all," she muses.  
  
I turn to look at her for the first time since she sat down, but now she's staring across the football field. "Huh?" I ask. I wasn't expecting her to segue into a discussion of skipped classes.   
  
Chloe chuckles for a second before replying. "You know...the quiz today was on social habits. Why we choose the social circles that we do. The extra credit question was kind of like what you asked Lana. Mr. Milkner said he wanted us to really understand what he was testing us on, so he gave us a question no one could get wrong--why we are friends with our best friend."  
  
I keep my gaze trained on Chloe's face, even though she's not meeting my eyes. "And what did you say?" I ask.  
  
"I said..." Chloe pauses and smiles as she remembers her answer. "I said because he's always there when I need him." She stops and glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "Even when I don't realize that I need him...or when I'm too stubborn to realize it. And he makes me feel safe."  
  
I simply stare at her as I hear the main gist of Lana's words repeated back to me. Here I was feeling sorry for myself because Lana didn't think those words applied to me, and the whole time, Chloe did. Chloe is looking at me questioningly, and I realize she's waiting for me to say something.  
  
"What do you say we blow off 7th and 8th? I feel the need to take you out and get you sugared up on mochas," I tell her, grinning broadly.  
  
"Sounds like a date...a non-date," Chloe adds, returning my grin.  
  
For a second, I consider replying that it's not a date...it's a fact finding mission to see if she deserves a date. But that isn't what I'm feeling. I already know Chloe deserves a date and more--when we're both ready for it. So I simply stand up and climb down onto a lower section of bleachers, reaching up and extending my hand to Chloe. "That it is," I reply, smiling as she grasps my hand with her own.  
  
We climb down the bleachers and make our way across the sunny campus, swinging our clasped hands between us. The cold snap in Smallville is over, and the sun is back with a vengeance. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Chloe looks up toward the sun, closing her eyes and letting the warming rays bask across her face.  
  
And that's when I realize...heartbreak is a strange thing. Right in the midst of the most unbearable pain, everything becomes clearer....and you realize how lucky you really are after all.  
  
The End 


End file.
